


#love

by demonharu



Series: SouKisuWeek 2016 [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Genderbend, Kids, Parenthood, Pregnancy, soukisuweek, soukisuweek2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 11:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6114905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonharu/pseuds/demonharu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SouKisu Week 2016 Day 2 Prompt: Domestic.</p><p>kisumitenderly “Only one month before the cutest family in the world gets bigger again! ;)” #family #prouddaddy #hotmom #bestmomever #love #mybabyiscuterthanyours</p>
            </blockquote>





	#love

The keys jingled in Kisumi’s hand as he stepped up to the door of their apartment, jammed the key in the first lock, and began the process of unlocking the front door.  Of course, one lock wasn't secure enough, in Sou's opinion, and the second was too easy to undo from the inside—what if Tamako reached up and undid the locks and then got outside? She was just twelve steps away from falling down the stairs, Sousuke kept saying. So, three locks it was.

His cold, shaking fingers made it hard to handle the metal keys and he cursed under his breath as he dropped them on the ground.  An annoyed huff of hot air bloomed like a mist in front of his face and he rested his head on the damned front door with three locks, his pink bangs pressed against his forehead, the very longest lock of hair perhaps reaching the dark bags beneath his eyes.

How was he gonna tell her?

He'd gotten passed up for the promotion at work, but it wouldn't hurt so bad if the guy who'd been promoted actually had done better work than he had.  However, much to Kisumi’s discontent, even if Kisumi worked hard—worked his ass off, actually—and he had some of the better ideas of the marketing team and he turned everything in on time and everyone in the office liked him, he was easily passed up for the boss’ younger relative and now Kisumi had to go home to Sou and tell her that things were going to be rougher than they'd hoped for a little while.

He wanted to scream about the unfairness and he'd been very close to complaining to the boss that he had a family and that he needed the money far more than his nephew did, but, as usual, his aggression turned passive and he could only give annoyed glares from over his coffee mug as he sat at his desk— _working_ —while Mr. Boss’ Nephew who didn't deserve a damned thing celebrated his promotion in the break room with cake.  And Kisumi loved cake.

He hoped he choked on it.

A bitter, icy wind cut right through him and he shivered, taking the edge of his blue scarf and tugging it up over his nose that had turned red with irritation.  Either that or he was getting a cold, but he really couldn't afford to have a cold right now.  He grabbed the sides of his jacket and tugged them closer together to cover up more of his chest.

Finally, he bent down to snatch the keys up from the ground, lightly dusted with freshly-fallen snow, taking up the cold metal that seemed to burn his exposed fingers as he held onto them tightly. Shivering, he undid one lock after the next, all three of those stupid locks that he was going to make sure to complain about to Sou again because it was stupid to have three locks on the door!

He pushed open the front door, announcing, “I'm home…”

Nothing.

No response.

He'd had such a crappy day and now his girls weren't even going to welcome him home? Clearly, nobody cared about him today.

At least it was warm inside. He opened the coat closet and shrugged off his thick jacket, then left his scarf hanging from a hook just inside.  Next, his suit jacket came off, draped over his arm, and then—

_“Achoo!”_

Oh, no.  With one hand over the knot in his tie, he froze, his head tilted back and his eyelids squeezed shut as he prepared for another sneeze, his hand coming up just in time to cover his nose.  “ _Achoo! Choo!_ A-ahh—” The last sneeze died in the bridge of his nose, leaving him with the distinct feeling that his nose was burning on the inside, pressure in his sinuses left unsatisfied, and he swore he could _taste_ the snot in his mouth, lingering just on the very back of his tongue.

So much for not getting sick...

He went to the bathroom off the main hall and washed his hands quickly before touching anything else. Then, he loosened the knot in his tie, pulling it down until it was mid-chest, and undid the top three buttons of his white, collared shirt, just enough to expose the central dip in his collarbone.  

“I'm home,” he called again as he walked further into the house.  Maybe Sou was out shopping or something?  In this weather?

He was about to look into the living room for her when he spotted a rather new decoration on the wall.  A tiny little blue flower (or, at least, that's one thing it could've been) was scratched onto the off-white walls in blue crayon. _Great._  “Tamako…,” he whined, running his long fingers down his face in frustration.  He loved art and he supported free expression, but she really couldn't just try to keep it on a piece of paper?!  She was _so_ lucky she was cute.

“Sousuke?” he called as he finally rounded the corner, running a hand through his hair to keep it out of his eyes now that the snow had melted and his hair was annoyingly flat and damp.

Then, he was viciously attacked, his heart absolutely torn into pieces, mercilessly ravaged, and nearly knocked out. His defenses had been down and he should've been more prepared, he knew, but it took him so very much by surprise that he had no choice but to freeze and give a little happy squeal that was not at all becoming of a man who'd turned thirty this year when he saw the absolute cutest thing ever in existence and he had to take a moment to fully appreciate the scene before him.

Sousuke was asleep on the couch with Tamako, looking every bit like a sleeping goddess despite the little stream of drool running out of the side of her mouth that was making a wet spot on one of their decorative pillows.  Her dark hair was spread out across the pillow and then over the arm of the couch, hanging down like a dark curtain, and her left hand was hanging down off the couch, just brushing the edge of an opened bag of chocolate-covered pretzels.  That explained the dark smudge on the corner of her mouth, just below the yellow smiley face on her cheek that was no doubt a priceless Rembrandt of Tamako’s.  Tamako was curled up on her side, her little hand grasping at Sou's silver necklace as she napped, her soft pink hair a mess of bows and ribbons she'd likely put in herself, her little body looking almost squished against the back of the couch with the ever-expanding mound at Sou’s middle that would, within only a month, be Tamako's little brother.

“That's not fair, Sou,” he said in a soft whisper as he took a moment to just watch, creeping closer with the lightest steps he could manage and sitting down cross-legged in front of his little family to admire a very rare moment of peace and quiet.  His eyes studied the gentle rise and fall of Sou's chest and the way Tamako's hand held the silver chain on her necklace, grasping and ungrasping, and the silence was momentarily broken by her soft, sleepy babbling. “Pa...dama…” She must've been dreaming.

He had to take a picture!  He fished in his pocket quickly for his smartphone and opened the camera, pausing for a moment when he first saw his own face on the screen.  He looked awful.  Dark bags and pale skin and damp hair that was becoming frizzy and a bit of snot running down from his right nostril was _not_ a good look.

He could worry about his look later, though.  There was rare adorableness in front of him and he intended to capture it and put it on Instagram before Sou could catch him and say anything to the contrary.  He held up the phone and snapped the picture, then scrolled through the filters.  Rise or Ludwig? Oh, or maybe Juno?  He settled on Ludwig eventually, because it seemed to compliment Sou’s features best, and posted the picture of his little family to his profile.

 

 **kisumitenderly** “Only one month before the cutest family in the world gets bigger again! ;)” _#family #prouddaddy #hotmom #bestmomever #love #mybabyiscuterthanyours_

 

That done, he really had to see about cleaning up his own appearance and maybe taking that bag of chocolate-covered pretzels and putting them away before they went stale. He put one hand on the floor and pushed himself up to stand, then pocketed his phone and carefully took the bag away from Sou’s outstretched fingertips and padded off to the kitchen to put it away in the cupboard. A quick rubber band around the top and it was nicely sealed for next time.

He caught sight of a note scribbled out in Sou's large, simple, and recognizable characters and picked it up off the counter to read.

“Kiss, Hayato called. He wants to come visit next week and stay for a few days.  I told him I'd ask you. There's a treat in the fridge for you from Tamako.”   Below that was scribbled out the usual “Milk, eggs, pickles, rice, carrots” that were by far in highest demand in their household.  Tamako was going through a phase where she only wanted to eat carrots and Kisumi was pretty sure Sousuke finished off an entire jar of pickles every day since she'd hit the five month mark.  It was a bit scary. He had nightmares about her eating everything in the kitchen—even the cabinets!

He set the note aside and immediately the thought of cleaning up his face was forgotten in favor of finding whatever treat Tamako had left him.  He opened up the fridge and a bright smile broke across his face when he spied a little cupcake.  The white frosting was sloppy and the strawberry slice on top had been pushed on with too much force, making it sink in, but he was sure that Sou had helped her make it, so it was bound to be delicious.

He picked it up and brought it to his mouth without further ado, closing his eyes and savoring the creamy buttercream frosting as it spread over his tongue mixed with the sweet tip of the strawberry. _“So good!”_ he nearly moaned, chewing slowly to make the flavor last and completely ignoring his nose that was now running in earnest, lazily wiping away the annoying, clear river of snot with his sleeve before it could touch his lips and taint his treat.  Sou's baking was the best.

“Oi, you sick or something?” came a low alto from somewhere behind him.

Spinning around, he looked something like a startled raccoon, the liner of the cupcake left in his hand, frosting on his face, his mouth full with the last amazing bite, and his eyes lined in exhausted darkness. “Didn't hear you get up,” he said through a mouthful of cake.

Sou had her arms crossed over her protruding belly that stretched out the front of her tight shirt almost too much and a frown on her lips that completely contrasted the happy face colored on her cheek.  Her hair had been pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head with an elastic, but she'd missed a few stray strands of dark hair.  “I asked if you're sick,” she tsked as she stepped closer, brushing away some of the soft pink hair on his forehead before pressing her palm to his skin. “You're warm…”

He leaned into her touch, whining once he'd swallowed his mouthful of cupcake, “Nooo. I've been sneezing, but I'm fine, Sou, I swear!”

She raised a brow as her hand fell away and she said in a firm tone that brooked no argument, “You're sick, Kiss.  Go lie down.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his head on her shoulder, begging, “Don't make me. I'm _fine_ , Sou… I just had a rough day is all, really.”

Her one hand came up to the back of his neck, long fingers nestled in the soft pink hair over his nape, and the other on his back as she gave a soft sigh. “Didn't get the job?”

Bingo.

“I'm sorry, Sou…,” was all he could say in response, giving her a gentle squeeze, nothing too restrictive given her bulging midsection. “I really tried…”

She turned her head just enough to give him a light kiss on his fluffy head, rubbing his back up and down with gentle motions of her hand.  “We’ll get by,” she said softly, not even mad at him, always so understanding.

That almost made him feel worse. She was so perfect—grumpy and strict, but perfect—and all he wanted to do was provide for her, make their life comfortable so that she didn't have to worry about things like money while she took care of their soon-to-be-two children.  And here he was, sick and still on the bottom rung of the ladder at work, scraping together pennies just to make it to the next month, and there was another baby on the way…

“Go lie down, Kiss. You're no use to me sick,” she said when his silence, heavy with self-loathing, had gone on for a moment too long. “Don't make me wake up Tamako.”

He groaned.  Tamako was his little weakness.  She had those big teal puppy dog eyes and, if she knew Papa was sick, she'd take him by the hand and entertain no arguments and cover his face with colorful bandaids if he didn't go lay down on his own.

“Fine…,” he said with a pout, kissing her clothed shoulder before he pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes. “How're you?”

“Better than you,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.  “I've been pregnant before, so it's nothing I can't handle,” she said shifting her weight on swollen feet and Kisumi was sure that that meant she was probably sore and maybe a bit nauseous. Her nausea was something else in the afternoons.  But before he could offer to make her feel better with a massage or something, anything to spend a bit of time with her, she commanded, “Bed. Now.”

“You're so mean…,” he whined as he clung to her again, sniffling to keep his snot in his nostrils.  “I just want to spend time with you.  We can cuddle on the couch and order soup.”

“I don't want to spend time with you, sicko,” she said, her grumpy frown only deepening.

“What?” he asked, at a loss, his mouth hanging open in despair as she thoroughly rejected him. “Why not?”

She turned her head to the side, her lower lip stick out in a pout, and she mumbled, “You put away my pretzels…”

“That's all?” he said with a relieved sigh.  “I'm sorry, Sou… You were sleeping and I didn't want them to go stale!” He put on his very best don't-be-mad-at-me-I'm-cute face.

Sou let out a _humph_ , then made the mistake of letting her eyes shift over and she caught the look on his face. “Don't give me that…,” she groaned. “You need to lie down or you'll get worse.”

“I know, I know,” he replied, turning up the power of his look with an added pout. “I just don't want to lie in bed alone…”

“If you get me or Tamako sick, I'll kill you.”

“I'll wear a mask!” he promised, eyes shining as it looked like she might be giving in. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease, Souuuuu.”

“You know you're thirty, right?” she asked with an eyebrow quirked.

Kisumi gave a mock-insulted huff, saying, “I can still be cute all the time, no matter my age. That's why you fell for me~” He trailed off with an upward inflection.  

She rolled her eyes. “Don't remind me…” She sighed in defeat nonetheless.  “Wear a mask and wash your face or I'm not touching you.”

His face lit up like he'd just been given the best present in the world and he puckered his lips for a kiss, leaning close, and—ran right into her palm as she blocked his advance. He whined into her hand. “No kisses?”

“Get better first and then I'll think about kissing you,” she replied, stepping away from his hold to wash her hands at the sink while he pouted after her.

“Fine…,” he whined, slinking away.

He went to the bathroom and splashed a bit of water on his face, ran a comb through his hair that had gone from fluffy to unbearably frizzy, and brushed his teeth, following up with floss and mouthwash.  Then, he grabbed a mask from the cupboard and reluctantly put it over his mouth and nose with a sigh.  Being sick was the worst.

That done, he slunk to the bedroom, shedding his tie and his pants and his buttoned shirt and slipping into sweats and a warm, clean hoodie over a t-shirt that smelled like fresh laundry. _Ah, Sou…_ Then, he pulled the covers down and slowly crawled into bed.

“Papa!”

He heard Tamako's little voice calling to him before she appeared at the door, toddling in from around the corner, her little dress hiked up to her waist where she held it in her little fist, the other of which held a pink marker. Her eyes were wide, seeing him in bed, and she hurried over to the edge to silently ask for “uppies,” lifting her arms up to gesture.

“Hey, Princess,” Kisumi greeted her with a wide smile hidden behind his mask.  He leaned over and picked her up with a hand beneath each little armpit, settling her down on his stomach.  “Come to see Daddy?”

She nodded shyly, reaching out to touch her hand to his mask with a frown. “Don’ nike’t,” she said in her strange talk, but he'd been a dad long enough to know what she meant.

“I know. I don't like it either,” he said, picking at one of the many bows in her hair that stuck out at every angle.  “But if you cuddle me, I think I'll start to feel better!” he said with a wink.

Tamako’s eyes lit up like gemstones and she nodded, near to gigglish at the prospect of making Papa feel better again. Then a thought occurred to her, plain to see on her face before she'd even held out her little pink marker and asked, “A pea face?”

“Hm?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“A pea face!” she repeated, as if he was an idiot for not understanding her the first time, and leaned forward with her little marker to color a wide, pink smile onto his mask.  She sat back and smiled widely at him when it was all done. 

It was off-center and it made the mask smell like marker ink, but he loved it.

“Suits you,” Sou said from the doorway, smirking as she watched the two of them.

Kisumi winked back, saying, “You're jealous.”

“I have one,” she replied, pointing to the yellow face on her cheek.

“Mama! Papa’s 'ick…,” Tamako said with the cutest sad puppy look that, if her hair color didn't already give it away, absolutely confirmed that she was his child.

Walking over, Sou agreed as she sat down on the bed beside him, one hand under her massive stomach for balance, “Yeah, he's sick. So we've gotta make him feel better, right?”

Tamako nodded enthusiastically.

“Why don't you go get a ribbon for Papa’s hair?” Sou suggested mischievously, ignoring the pleading, _oh-god-no-not-that_ look he threw her. “I think that'd make him feel a lot better.”

“‘Kay!” Tamako said, hugging Kisumi around his middle before she climbed off her father and landed on the floor.  “Be back i’ a mint!” she said, toddling off at top-toddler-speed to her bedroom.

“You hate me,” Kisumi whined when she was gone, pouting behind his mask. “I'm sick, so you're supposed to be nice…”

Sou smirked, reaching over to take him by the chin, and said, “I am nice,” before she kissed him right over the mask. “I love you.”

Kisumi absolutely melted, turning into a puddle in her hands and wishing the mask wasn't a barrier between them. He rested his hand on her belly, giving it a gentle, affectionate rub while he looked into her eyes, saying softly, “I love you too…”

She quirked a brow and rested her forehead against his, asking in her sultry bedroom voice, “Really? You love me Kisumi?”  

Her long eyelashes were distracting. Her big, gorgeous, teal eyes were distracting.  Her tone of voice was distracting.  The way her hand settled on his thigh was distracting. His breath caught in his throat. “Of course, Sou… I'd do anything for you…,” he whispered back, cursing germs forever for separating him from a kiss with her now.  Dammit!

“Anything?” she mused in a whisper, eyelids fluttering closed.  She nudged her nose against his, nuzzling him lightly, and said, “Then….”

A pillow collided with his head.

It was so sudden, he wasn't even sure how to react except to throw up his hands in defense, wide-eyed, and gasp out, “ _Ow!_ Wha—”

“Delete that fucking picture from Instagram or I'm not speaking to you,” Sou snapped as she brusquely stood from the bed, giving him another hard smack with the pillow for good measure before she left the room, waddling a bit with her large stomach in front of her.

_“Sousuke!”_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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